What Do I Say To That
by Get Real Or Die
Summary: Sometimes, you just have to hit something. Part of the 'Camera Invasion' stories.


Pairing: None really, but John Cena and Lita interaction

Summary: Sometimes you just have to hit something

Rating: Soft R for cursing and some violence

Spoilers: Set on the Raw when DX took over the production truck. I guess if you didn't know Lita won the belt off Mickie that Monday.

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Notes: Not a song fic, but I worked some lyrics in there from Eminem's 'The Eminem Show'. Marshall please don't sue because honestly, I defer to your genius. Also, I would just like to say that the whole DX in control of the production truck thing is the greatest source of ideas for wrestling fanfiction ever.

What Do I Say To That 1/1

Shawn Michaels and HHH were having fun. They watched conversations, saw strange behavior, and were generally just having a good time. They didn't broadcast all of the things they saw into the arena. But when they came upon Lita working out and delivering devastating blows to a punching bag while listening to her Ipod, they silently broadcasted it to the ring. If nothing else, it'd make Mickie James wet herself.

J.R and Jerry are commentating on Mr. McMahon ranting in the ring, when a video of Lita punching and kicking a workout bag came onto the big screen. She was wailing on it with a ferocity that astonished the superstars watching in the halls or the locker rooms, as well as Mr. McMahon, J.R, and Jerry. Lita stood without swaying an inch going left, right, left, right. She didn't blink and she didn't slow down. In fact she started going even faster and faster. The accuracy didn't waver and the force didn't drop, even when she started integrating kicks. She wore a black hoody and blue workout pants and she wore no expression. The locker door opened and in walked someone no one expected to do so: John Cena. He came in and sat down on a bench watching for a moment, before throwing one of the water bottles he had in his hands at Lita. She simply turned around and caught it. Taking off her earphones, she raised an eyebrow at a lounging Cena.

"What are you doing here Cena?"

"I figured you'd be dehydrated after our little drinking game last night."

Lita snorts. "Drinking game? Cena, you came up to me at the hotel bar and demanded I stay away from the ring during your match. When I simply looked at you, you took a swing at me. When I blocked it, you sat down and ordered a bottle of Jose Cuervo. I just matched you shot for shot and took you to the lobby when you passed out. I'm not dehydrated and we're damn sure not friends." She sneers feverently as she reaches within her pocket and extracts a dollar and throws it at his feet. "But thanks for the water. Now get the hell out." She goes back to working the bag as John Cena blinks at the dollar. He stands and shoves his hands in his pocket.

"What's your problem Lita?"

"What's my problem? I have no problem. Tonight I have a title match and I'm going to win that belt because there's no doubt in my mind. I've been the champ twice in between broken necks and shattered kneecaps and now that there's no stalkers or douche bags left, I'm going for it once more. I want to fall flat on my face so badly and not give a damn, but I won't. I'm sick and tired because I'll probably never get the props I feel I deserve. I've been in this business for 5 years and I've wasted so much times jumping off ladders and being choke slammed through tables. Fine, I can't change that but now I'm going for it. No distractions in my way, nothing. You're so lucky Cena. Your time is now and what's more, they recognize it. You don't have to fight for your right to go after a title. This is your moment and you better hold onto it because you may never get it again. Get as much shit as you can and stare at that title long and hard every Sunday night before you go to bed and before every paperview because one day it'll be gone. Your opponents will get cockier and harder to take down until the day you gotta walk away and admit that it's at its end. Your time is now and my time is coming, even if no one else recognizes it. This is a full-blown attack I'm launching at them, whether they feel it or not. If they can't feel it, it must be too real to touch."

John Cena just stands there dumb struck, before he laughs.

"Too real to touch? You? Lita, you're not exactly known for your in ring prowess."

Suddenly, she spun around and flew at him. Throwing punches, kicks, elbows, knees, whatever was at her disposal. Cena blocked a lot of them but she was too fast and most got through the meager defenses he had put up. She ended it with a Russian Leg Sweep, catching him a few inches before he hit the floor, then dropping him the rest of the way. As she stood over him, she looked at him with the most serious expression he had ever seen. "But I will be." Then she headed back to the punching bag as John Cena, the Undisputed Heavyweight Champion of the world, lies on the floor trying to catch his breath.

Lita laughs a completely mirthless laugh. "You know there's probably a list or something. It'd go Mula, Chyna, Trish, a bunch of other people and then me. Hey, if I'm not even put on that list it won't offend me. Cause honestly I don't care anymore. If they won't give me a shot, hell I'll take it. That's why you see me walking around like nothing's bothering me, even though half you people got a fucking problem with me (while saying this, she kicks the bag as hard as she can probably because her voice broke a little). Sometimes I think I'm crazy because I hate this place on the best of days. The sleep deprivation, endless traveling, smart remarks; it all snowballs until I'm this close to cracking and torching one of these arenas to the ground. With everything in it; even me. Life's really hazy when you only get 2 hours of sleep, Cena. I lay awake at night in hotels and motels asking myself, "Why am I here? Am I just wasting my time? What the hell are you doing Lita?" Then I see that belt and suddenly I'm not crazy and it all makes sense. I'm gonna walk around with my head up high around this bitch, because I don't owe nobody nothing. They're gonna hate it but they're gonna have to give me respect when they finally can't with hold it any longer. I won't leave and I won't give up, but I'm through taking shit from anyone. Next person who has something negative to say to me about me, I take a page out of Orton's book and spit a fat loogey in their face. And they can bring it because I don't see why I should take it. I'm tired of my flaws being open season. I used to act like shit didn't faze me but my insecurities, my faults used to eat me alive. Then I realized: if I'm the only one on my side and I hate myself, then there's really no one on my side is there?"

Cena speaks quietly from the floor. "What about Edge?"

Lita snorts. "What about him? I hate that squirrelly little fuck. He cheats on me every night and if I gave a shit, I'd say something about it. Some people would say it's nothing less than what I deserve, but then again those are the same people that I'm going to be telling to kiss my ass from now on so I guess it's even. Matt knows why I did what I did, even if it'll stay between him, Jeff, and me until the day we die because they won't ever say anything and I don't blab family secrets. Even if we're not family anymore. I honestly can't understand why Edge does what he does. I gave him everything. All he would of had to do was ask and if it was in my power, he'd have gotten it. If he wanted me to strip your title belt off you and commission him a new one before hawking the jewels into the Hudson River, I would've done it. I wore what he wanted me to wear and I did the live sex stunt when I personally thought it was the tackiest thing ever. But the time that I wasted is nothing compared to how much I used to want to cry before I realized I was the tool cause I should have seen it coming. So here's what I'm facing: now I'm the company slut, with no friends and he's number one contender for a belt he doesn't deserve. I've been to bat for this man. I've taken finishers and cracked chairs over people back for this man. I've bent over backwards for him and I should have seen it coming. Well it's over and he can get decimated and I'll sit back and laugh as they scrape him off the ring before I ever lift a hand to help him again. I wouldn't piss on fire to put him out. If he died, I wouldn't buy him life."

She stops pummeling the bag and lays down and starts doing sit ups. They aren't the rapid ones that inexperienced people do. These are the slow ones workout enthusiasts do so they could feel the burn as their stomach muscles slowly began to tighten. Her eyes are twitching as she strains to keep her legs from lifting. She's doing a remarkably good job of it, but Cena sits up from where he was laying on the floor and puts his hands on her feet. She nods her thanks. John Cena watches her as he begins to speak.

"Lita, I'm sorry..."

She calmly interrupts him. "Don't say it. You don't mean it and even if you do, finishing that sentence guarantees there's a high possibility that I'll break your nose. I honestly don't care Cena. Let's chalk up the finishers to frustration at being screwed out of the title, the insults your percieval of my inherent bitchiness, and the general slutty behavior as chairshots to the head gone wrong. When it's just me and you, none of it ever happened and when we leave here it's Rated R who? finisher what? Get it or do I have to say it louder?"

He nods resolutely. "So you gave him everything and he just..."

Lita sighs. "Yeah, but what can you do? Things happen because they do. I'm going to concentrate on what I've should have been doing all along: winning. And I don't intend it to be winning at any cost. If I win I want it to be because of superior skills, not because I'm that good of a cheater. Unless whoever I'm fighting tries to cheat; then not only do I cheat my ass off, I'll destroy them physically and mentally if possible after I win anyway. The fire inside me is going to expire and die before I turn 35 and I'll retire to live an unremarkable life. Lord have mercy if anymore of these wrestlers adverse me between now and then. Because..."

She trails off and lays back, staring at the ceiling as if it holds all the answers in the known universe. Then she shrugs sharply. "Because pulling punches is weak. Because before I ever take shit again, I'll eat shit. Because if it wasn't for me... Edge wouldn't be shit."

Throughout everything Lita has been saying, Cena has looked increasingly uncomfortable. As he stands up, it's apparent that he's hit his breaking point. "I really don't want to be in this room right now. It's just..." Then he shudders. He's heading for the door, when Lita raises her head up and calls out.

"Cena?"

He looks back, warily. "Yeah?"

She smiles a wholesome, pure smile that he has to realize is the fakest thing he'll ever see in his natural born life. "Good luck in your match tonight."

He looks back at her for a long, calculating moment before nodding. "Thanks. You too. Not that it looks like you'll need it."

And as he silently closes the door Lita starts back her sit-ups, with her face expressionless again.

End camera invasion.

Epilogue

Lita came out to the ring for her match to no music and wearing a pair of black track pants, white t-shirt, and black wrestling boots. Her hair was in a simple high ponytail. She strode with a purpose to the ring, and as she walked through the halls and down the ramp, there was no showboating, no posing. Just a simple determination to get what she wanted and leave before she broke someone's face. She ignored everyone she passed and if they were smart enough, they returned the favor. The few people that spoke to her were brushed aside with a quiet, "Not now." As she stood in guerilla position before the end of Mickie James' entrance, she bounced from foot to foot, full of raucous energy. As James' music ended, she didn't signal the technician; she just walked out. And if she noticed Mickie James evacuate the ring when she entered, she didn't comment on it.

She just simply stood there, arms crossed as the referee sweet-talked Mickie back into the ring. When the referee told her she would have to forfeit if she didn't fight, Mickie scowled and stepped into the ring anyway. They stepped up to each other as the bell rang, neither moving an inch. Then Mickie threw a punch that barely rocked Lita and Lita gave her a DDT. The match was underway. Throughout the match, it was apparent to anyone watching that Lita's whole focus was absent from it. She was going through the motions, but when James got hits in she just shook them off. Eventually, Mickie was worn down and Lita went for the pin.

Of course Edge would have to come down and break it up. He did but as Lita stood and was about to face him and show him how displeased she was at his buffoonery, John Cena came diving into the ring from nowhere (possibly the crowd) and threw Edge out of the ring. He salutes Lita before jumping out and following a hightailing Edge through the back. This all happened so rapidly, that even though there was interference the bell hadn't rung, so the match hadn't officially been stopped. Lita goes back to James and seeing as a pin is not an option because she has recuperated, she merely puts James into the Figure-Four Leg Lock. Mickie tries to hold on, but eventually has to tap out. Lillian makes the announcement. "And your winner and new Women's Champion: Lita." The ref handed the redhead the title belt she just fought for and Lita merely grinned before holding it up high. She holds the pose for a long moment before helping James up (again this is all done absently) and leaving the ring. As she walked through the halls back to her locker room, she decided to be in the crowd for John's match against Edge.

She wanted to see Edge's face when he got a Spinebuster from her right before John Cena won the belt back.

P.S: The songs from the Eminem Show whose lyrics I used are "Till I Collapse", "Soldier", "Say What you Say". Plus, "Run, Rabbit Run" from the 8 Mile soundtrack. Also, from a song off of the Spiderman soundtrack called "Bother" by Corey Taylor of Slipknot


End file.
